#stop taking words out of their mouth as absolute truth

[perksofbeingasunflowerblog]

It’s not like they’re obligating Louis to release a documentary. If Freddie features so heavily maybe Louis is trying to tell you *something* about his life and you should go in with an open mind regardless what you believe is true. This is the most personal project Louis is going to release, and I think people should listen what he has to say and what he’s going to show you before doubling down on anything

this isn't twitter bff

next thing you'll say is "they're screaming but nobody is listening" or whatever that is

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fever

Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK

A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 

His dark, curly hair. 

His mustache. 

His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 

His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 

Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 

Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 

That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 

And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 

You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 

God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 

As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 

Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 

“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 

“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 

“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 

And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 

“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 

“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 

Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg

“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 

Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 

“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 

“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 

“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yo prometo (I promise).” 

Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 

You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 

While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 

After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 

Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 

It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 

You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  

As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 

Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 

“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 

Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 

Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 

“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 

“Mhmmmmmm.” 

“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 

“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 

“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 

Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 

“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 

“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  

As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 

“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 

“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 

Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 

For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 

Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  

“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 

“Fucking right it is.” 

His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 

You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 

“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 

And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 

In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 

You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 

“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 

“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  

“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 

“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 

If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 

“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 

Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 

Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 

Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  

“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 

Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 

As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 

The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.

“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  

 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 

That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.

“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 

As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 

“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 

With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 

After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 

His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 

Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 

“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 

“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 

“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 

“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 

“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 

“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 

“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 

“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

BLOODTHIRSTY

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: mature | WORD COUNT: 990

SUMMARY

when your next shipment of blood won’t be delivered to the x mansion for another two days, logan offers to help keep you fed.

part two, animal instinct

WARNINGS/TAGS

typical vampire themes (blood, biting), no use of y/n, reader being picked up, grinding, kissing

LINKS

masterlists | support for palestine

You're pacing the length of the kitchen, filled with anxious energy. There's a pit in your stomach, a gnawing pain that's keeping you awake and lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling wasn't helping.

You hear footsteps in the hall and pause, watching as the thick wooden door opens and Logan steps into the kitchen, flicking the light switch and bathing the room in brightness that hurts your eyes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you.

"Can't sleep either?" he asks, sauntering further into the room. He's fully dressed, a tight white t-shirt stretching across his defined chest and biceps and a pair of jeans hugging his legs, covering boots that click against the tile with each step. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his neck, to the thin skin that covers his fluttering pulse, but you look away quickly in shame.

"Too hungry," you reply. He looks around the room.

"Well, you're in the right place for eating. There's plenty of food."

"Not the kind I need."

He tilts his head, assessing you. "You some kind of vampire or something?"

"Or something," you reply, dancing around the truth. You're not sure what you are, not exactly, but Charles has helped you unlock enough information to get by. "Anyway, Charles said the next shipment should be here in a couple days. I just have to make it until then."

"I could help you out," Logan suggests. You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Absolutely not," you snap. You move to leave, walking past him, but he wraps a hand around your arm to stop you.

"Why not? You can't kill me. You won't even leave a mark."

"You don't know what you're offering, Logan."

"I got a pretty good idea," he says with a huff of laughter. "You're a predator. I know what it's like to suppress that side of yourself."

You don't know much about Logan. He hasn't been at the X Mansion for very long, but he's made quite the impression among the staff. You can see why -- he's charming, handsome, rough around the edges. You know of his abilities but you don't know him, not really, and the fact that he's offering himself for your hunger is planting nasty seeds of suspicion in your brain.

"I can't," you whisper. He steps closer.

"Why not? Afraid you'll get addicted, sweetheart?"

He's goading you, tempting you. Your gums ache with the need to bite, to feed, to fill yourself full and find sweet relief from the pain of hunger. He pulls you closer and your treacherous body obeys, ignoring the warnings from your logical brain.

"Come on," he says. "You'll feel better."

It's been a long time since you've fed from a living person, having grown so used to the donor blood Charles is able to obtain for you through various channels, but the muscle memory is there.

You're chest to chest with Logan now, pressed so tightly to him that you can feel his heart pounding against you, can hear the rush of blood in his veins. He smells like the woods and smoke, an earthy combination that makes you a little lightheaded. He wraps an arm around your waist.

"You want it?" he asks. You nod. "Do it, then. I've got you."

You're helpless to it now, nothing in your mind except survival instinct demanding to be fulfilled. The prick of pain as your mouth grows crowded with longer, sharper teeth meant to tear and ravage and maim. You lean into him, running your lips against warm skin and relishing in the sharp breath he takes at the contact.

Like any predator, you give no warning, sinking your teeth into his flesh. Blood rushes over your tongue, warm and lush, invading your senses. His heavy palm settles on the back of your neck, cradling you to him, and the intimacy of it pulls a moan from deep in your chest.

"Fuck," Logan growls, his other hand tight on your hip. You lift your head to ask if he's okay, but the words are lost when he bends his knees and grabs the back of your thighs with both hands, urging you up. He settles you on the counter, fitting himself between your spread legs.

"Again," he demands, eyes wild and teeth bared in a snarl. You switch to the other side of his neck, biting down hard. He moans, loud and deep, hips flexing into yours. You can feel the hard length of his cock through his jeans and the friction against your core makes you whine and writhe against him.

You drag yourself away from him, licking your lips. His pupils are blown wide, the black of them nearly engulfing the gorgeous hazel of his irises. His gaze drops to your lips and he leans in, kissing you like a hungry animal, trying to devour you in turn.

He pulls away from you, begins to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. You grow tense, the sudden realization that Logan's favor has devolved into something more hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away by the shoulder and he stares at you with a furrowed brow, confusion coloring his features. His chest heaves with breath and his mouth is stained red, lips kiss bitten and slick. The wounds you would have left behind have already closed, leaving no trace of you on his skin. You swallow around the lump in your throat.

"Thank you, Logan," you whisper. You ease yourself down from the counter, the man stepping back slightly to give you space. "Goodnight."

He clears his throat. "Right. Hope you can sleep now."

"I hope you can, too."

You leave the kitchen, the weight of his stare on your back not lifting until you're in the hall and can take a deep breath. When you return to your room, you still can't sleep.

But it's no longer because of hunger.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting, I’d love to hear from you 💕

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

All masterlists

Logan Howlett masterlist

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #10

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Thank you, I really hate it."

"Can't figure out the right answer."

"Sit down and shut up."

"I'm definitely open to that."

"Why don't you answer your phone?"

"It's not a witchhunt."

"Is it suddenly getting colder?"

"That child is staring at you."

"Let's talk about some options."

"And then you just lost it?"

"Have you heard about this story?"

"It's going to be a great day today."

"Don't say another word."

"This is absolutely not my fault."

"What would happen if I'd kiss you right now?"

"It's always a risk, but think about the reward."

"There is a fine line between stupid and genius."

"I never really left."

"Answer me. Quickly."

"You hold no power here."

"We learn from our mistakes."

"Have you seen that the sun is coming out?"

"This sounds like an interogation."

"Should I call my lawyer?"

"I have always admired you."

"Who's at your house right now?"

"Call the number. Now."

"When are you getting paid?"

"It miraculously stopped working."

"I have absolutely no answers to your questions."

"You took us on a wild ride there."

"What did she look like?"

"That's a scam, ma'am."

"Let's see each other again in ten years."

"I will be waiting for you."

"Please, don't pick me."

"Not my friends, not my problem."

"It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you."

"You are such a hypocrite."

"Nobody asked me, but I will answer."

"How did you get your degree?"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you."

"Great, who cares?"

"You just can't handle the truth."

"I'm curious about your motive."

"Respect is not given freely."

"Your pride will be your downfall."

"Just let it go, okay?"

"Why do you insist on it?"

"Seeing you like this, I fell even more in love with you."

"I don't want to hear another word coming out of your mouth!"

"I just know that everything will go well."

"This is very important for me."

"Wow, the weather is really... doing its thing."

"Don't even try to talk to me."

"I can and I will sue."

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"Do I make you nervous?"

"You never had the best ideas."

"Don't wait for me."

"Who would you call?"

"That's too wild for me."

"You can't even say it with a straight face."

"I told you not to touch that."

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"Takes one to know one.

"Let me make this right."

"When did you become an expert in this?"

"Nothing is as serious as it seems."

"How could this accidently happen?"

"It's not my birthday."

"Sounds like wishful thinking."

"Welcome to my personal hell."

"Do you even know who I am?"

"The devil knows I tried."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[pucksandpower]

Lovefest

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Oscar thought that adjusting to Formula 1 would be the biggest challenge of his rookie season … no one warned him that being around you and Lando would somehow both traumatize and make him believe in true love at the same time

Based on this request

Oscar steps into the bustling McLaren garage, his eyes darting around as he takes in the flurry of activity. It’s his first day in the paddock wearing papaya and he’s eager to make a good impression.

As he weaves through the mechanics and engineers, he spots Lando chatting animatedly with a woman he assumes must be Lando’s girlfriend.

Approaching the pair, Oscar puts on his friendliest smile. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you, mate.”

Lando turns, his face lighting up. “Oscar! Welcome to the team.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is my girlfriend. Babe, this is Oscar, my new teammate.”

You extend your hand, smiling warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Lando’s been talking about you non-stop.”

Oscar shakes your hand, chuckling. “All good things, I hope?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you assure him. “He’s really excited to work with you this season.”

Lando nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, mate. It’s gonna be epic. We’re gonna crush it together.”

Oscar grins, already feeling at ease. “That’s the plan. So, how long have you two been together?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he notices a few nearby mechanics exchange knowing glances and stifle laughter. Lando and you, however, seem oblivious to this as your eyes lock onto each other.

“Well,” Lando begins, his voice softening, “it’s been about two years now, but honestly, it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”

You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you. But really, Oscar, from the moment we met, it was like everything just clicked into place.”

Oscar nods politely, not quite understanding the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together.”

“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Lando says, his eyes never leaving yours. “She’s my soulmate, my best friend, my everything.”

You giggle, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “You’re such a charmer. But he’s right, Oscar. We just ... we get each other, you know?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but Lando cuts in, “Remember our first date? I was so nervous I spilled my drink all over myself.”

“Oh my god, yes!” You exclaim, laughing. “But it was adorable. And then you tried to clean it up and knocked over the candle ...”

“Nearly set the whole restaurant on fire,” Lando finishes, grinning. “But you didn’t run away screaming, so I knew you were a keeper.”

Oscar shifts uncomfortably, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment. He glances around, hoping to catch someone’s eye for help, but the other team members seem to be purposefully avoiding their corner of the garage.

You turn back to Oscar, your eyes shining. “Sorry, we got a bit carried away. It’s just, when you find that person who completes you, it’s hard not to gush sometimes.”

Lando nods sagely. “Absolutely. Like, did I tell you about the time she surprised me after a race in Monaco?”

Before Oscar can answer, you jump in, “Oh, Lando, I’m sure Oscar doesn’t want to hear about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Oscar says weakly, trapped by politeness.

Lando grins, oblivious to Oscar’s discomfort. “So there I was, exhausted after the race, and I walk into my hotel room to find it covered in rose petals and candles ...”

As Lando launches into the story, Oscar notices a mechanic nearby making frantic ‘cut it out’ gestures. Confused, he tries to catch the man’s eye, but the mechanic quickly busies himself with a nearby toolbox.

“... and then she steps out of the bathroom in this gorgeous dress,” Lando continues, his voice filled with awe. “I swear, Oscar, my heart stopped for a second. She was like an angel.”

You blush furiously. “Lando, stop it. You’re embarrassing me in front of your new teammate.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Lando insists. “Oscar, mate, when you find someone who makes your heart race every time you see them, even after years together, you know it’s real.”

Oscar nods, desperately searching for a way to change the subject. “That’s ... that’s really sweet, guys. So, uh, Lando, how’s the car feeling this season?”

But Lando seems to be in his own world now, gazing adoringly at you. “You know, speaking of the car, it reminds me of how supportive she’s been throughout my career. Remember that time you stayed up all night with me before a big race, just talking and calming my nerves?”

You smile softly. “Of course I do. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

“And that’s why I love you so much,” Lando says, pulling you close. “You’re always there for me, through the highs and the lows.”

Oscar watches, bewildered, as the two of you seem to forget his presence entirely. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Daniel Ricciardo approaching, a look of amused resignation on his face.

“Hey, Oscar,” Daniel says quietly, coming to stand beside him. “I see you’ve made the rookie mistake of getting these two started.”

Oscar turns to him, relief evident in his voice. “Daniel, thank god. What’s going on? They’ve been like this for ages.”

Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, mate. You’ve stumbled into the Lando and Y/N lovefest. There’s a rule around here: never get them talking about how much they love each other, or you’ll be stuck listening to them being lovesick for at least an hour.”

Oscar’s eyes widen in horror. “An hour? But ... but we have the first testing session soon!”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Daniel says, patting Oscar on the shoulder. “Once they get going, there’s no stopping them. It’s like a force of nature.”

As if to prove Daniel’s point, Lando’s voice rises slightly as he recounts another story. “... and then, on our anniversary, she organized this incredible scavenger hunt all around London ...”

You chime in, your voice equally enthusiastic. “Oh, but Lando, what about the time you learned to cook my favorite meal just to surprise me?”

Daniel leans in close to Oscar, whispering, “See what I mean? They’re in their own little world now. Best to just let it run its course.”

Oscar watches, fascinated and horrified, as Lando and you continue to trade stories and loving glances, seemingly oblivious to the world around you. The garage bustles with activity, mechanics and engineers working around the loved-up couple as if this were a regular occurrence.

“So, uh, how long does this usually last?” Oscar asks Daniel, his voice tinged with desperation.

Daniel checks his watch. “Well, you’re about fifteen minutes in now. I’d say you’ve got at least another forty-five to go, minimum.”

Oscar groans. “But what about testing? Shouldn’t someone ... I don’t know, snap them out of it?”

Daniel laughs, clapping Oscar on the back. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Many have tried, all have failed. It’s best to just let nature take its course. Think of it as your initiation into the team.”

As if on cue, Lando’s voice rises again. “... and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

You gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Lando, do you really mean that?”

“With all my heart,” Lando says solemnly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, on or off the track.”

Oscar turns to Daniel, a pleading look in his eyes. “There has to be something we can do. Anything!”

Daniel shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, there is one thing that sometimes works ...”

Before Oscar can ask what he means, Daniel cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey, lovebirds! Last one to the track buys dinner for the whole team!”

As if snapping out of a trance, Lando and you both turn, suddenly aware of your surroundings again.

“Oh, shoot!” Lando exclaims. “Testing! Come on, we can’t be late!”

As Lando rushes off to get ready, you give Oscar an apologetic smile. “It was lovely meeting you. Sorry if we got a bit carried away there.”

Oscar watches, dumbfounded, as you hurry after Lando. He turns to Daniel, who’s wearing a self-satisfied grin.

“And that, my friend,” Daniel says, “is how you break the spell. Welcome to McLaren. I’m just happy they’re your problem now.”

As they head towards the track, Oscar can’t help but shake his head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. It’s going to be an interesting season, that’s for sure.

***

Several months into the season, the McLaren garage buzzes with anticipation. It’s race weekend, and the team has invited a popular podcaster to get an inside look at their operations. Oscar, now comfortably settled into his role as Lando’s teammate, watches with mild interest as the podcaster, Mike, bounces around the garage, microphone in hand, eyes wide with excitement.

“This is incredible!” Mike exclaims, his voice carrying over the din of mechanics at work. “The energy here is just electric!”

Oscar chuckles to himself, remembering his own first days with the team. He catches Daniel’s eye across the pit lane, and they share a knowing smirk.

Mike continues his tour, interviewing various team members, his enthusiasm never waning. Oscar keeps one ear on the conversations while focusing on his pre-race preparations. Everything seems to be going smoothly until he hears the fateful words that make his blood run cold.

“So, Lando,” Mike says, his voice dripping with curiosity, “I couldn’t help but notice your lovely girlfriend here. You two make such a cute couple. How about you tell us a bit about your relationship?”

The entire McLaren garage falls silent. Tools clatter to the ground. A collective groan rises from the team members. Someone in the back yells, “No!”

Oscar feels his chest tighten, his eyes already beginning to water. He looks around desperately, seeking an escape route, but he’s trapped between his car and a wall of mechanics who have frozen in horror.

Lando’s face lights up, oblivious to the panic around him. “Oh, mate, where do I even begin? She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”

“No, really,” Lando insists, turning to face you fully. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about her.”

Oscar watches in mounting dread as the familiar scene begins to unfold. He catches Daniel’s eye again, silently pleading for help, but Daniel just shakes his head, a look of resigned amusement on his face.

Mike, unaware of the can of worms he’s just opened, leans in eagerly. “That’s so sweet! How did you two meet?”

“Well,” you begin, your eyes never leaving Lando’s, “it was at a charity event. I was volunteering, and Lando was there as a guest ...”

“And I saw her from across the room,” Lando interjects, his voice soft and reverent. “She was helping an elderly gentleman to his seat, and the way she smiled at him ... I swear, it was like time stopped.”

But Lando and you are lost in your own world now, the podcaster forgotten as you gaze into each other’s eyes.

“I remember thinking,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “who is this adorable guy in the McLaren jacket?”

Lando grins. “And I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you all night. I must have walked past your station a dozen times.”

“Thirteen,” you correct him with a giggle. “I was counting.”

Mike looks around, confused by the reactions of the team. He catches Oscar’s eye and mouths, “What’s happening?”

Oscar, his eyes already glistening with unshed tears, just shakes his head frantically. He tries to sidle away, but his movement seems to draw Lando’s attention.

“Oh, Oscar!” Lando exclaims. “You should have seen her that night. She was wearing this beautiful flowy dress that matched her eyes perfectly.”

You laugh, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. But Lando looked so handsome in his suit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him all night.”

Oscar feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Daniel standing beside him, a sympathetic look on his face. “Breathe, mate,” Daniel whispers. “It’ll be over ... eventually.”

Mike, still oblivious to the situation, presses on. “So, what was your first date like?”

The entire garage seems to groan in unison. Oscar feels a tear escape and roll down his cheek.

“Our first date,” Lando says dreamily, “was at this little Italian restaurant. I was so nervous I could barely eat.”

You nod, your eyes sparkling with the memory. “He was adorable. He kept knocking things over and apologizing.”

“But you were so patient,” Lando adds. “Even when I spilled wine all over the tablecloth.”

“Because I could see how genuine you were,” you reply. “How kind and funny and passionate.”

Oscar, unable to take it anymore, turns to Daniel. “Please,” he whispers desperately, “make it stop.”

Daniel pats his back comfortingly. “I know, buddy. I know. But you know the rules. Once they start, there’s no stopping them.”

Mike, finally sensing that something is amiss, tries to steer the conversation back to racing. “So, uh, Lando, how do you balance your relationship with your career?”

But Lando is too far gone now. “Oh, she’s the most supportive partner I could ask for. She’s there for every race, every triumph, every setback.”

“Because I believe in you,” you say softly. “In us. In what we have together.”

Oscar feels another tear roll down his cheek. He looks around the garage, seeing the mix of resignation and amusement on his teammates’ faces. Some have plugged their ears, others have found suddenly urgent tasks to attend to far away from the love-struck couple.

Mike, now looking slightly panicked, turns to Oscar. “Uh, Oscar? Any thoughts on ... on teamwork?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, grateful for the lifeline, but Lando beats him to it.

“Teamwork!” Lando exclaims. “That reminds me of the time we decided to cook dinner together for our six-month anniversary.”

You laugh, the sound light and musical. “Oh god, what a disaster that was!”

“But it was perfect,” Lando insists. “Because we were together.”

Oscar feels his knees go weak. He leans heavily against his car, Daniel’s steadying hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright.

“How ... how long?” Oscar manages to croak out.

Daniel checks his watch. “Only twenty minutes in, mate. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Mike, now fully aware that he’s lost control of the interview, looks around helplessly. His eyes land on a senior mechanic, silently pleading for assistance.

The mechanic just shakes his head. “You brought this on yourself, kid. Rule number one around here: never ask about their relationship.”

“I didn’t know!” Mike protests weakly.

“None of us did, the first time,” the mechanic replies sagely. “Consider this your initiation.”

Meanwhile, Lando and you continue your love-fueled reminiscence, oblivious to the chaos around you.

“Remember our first vacation together?” Lando asks, his eyes shining.

You nod enthusiastically. “That little cottage in the countryside. It was so peaceful.”

“Except for when we tried to go hiking and got completely lost,” Lando adds with a chuckle.

“But it led to that beautiful hidden waterfall,” you remind him. “Where you told me you loved me for the first time.”

Oscar lets out a quiet sob. Daniel, still by his side, pats his back sympathetically. “There, there, mate. Let it out. It’s healthier that way.”

Mike, looking increasingly desperate, tries one last time to salvage the situation. “So, uh, about the upcoming race ...”

But Lando and you are in full swing now, trading stories and loving gazes, completely lost in your own world.

“And then there was the time we went to that cooking class together,” you say, giggling at the memory.

Lando groans good-naturedly. “Oh god, I nearly burned down the kitchen!”

“But you made the most amazing chocolate soufflé,” you remind him.

“Only because you were there to guide me,” Lando says softly. “You always bring out the best in me.”

Oscar, his face now streaked with tears, turns to Daniel. “How ... how did you deal with this?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

Daniel shrugs. “You have to learn to find the humor in it, mate. And maybe invest in some good noise-canceling headphones.”

Mike, realizing he’s fighting a losing battle, slumps against a nearby workbench. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”

The senior mechanic nods sagely. “Yep. But don’t worry, kid. We’ve all been there. Give it another ... oh, forty minutes or so, and they’ll run out of steam. Maybe.”

As if to prove him wrong, Lando’s voice rises again. “Oh, and remember that time we went stargazing in the desert?”

You nod enthusiastically. “How could I forget? The way the stars reflected in your eyes ...”

“It was nothing compared to the way you light up my world,” Lando replies, his voice thick with emotion.

Oscar, unable to take it anymore, slides down to sit on the floor, his back against his car. He draws his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly as he mutters, “Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”

Daniel crouches down beside him, patting his shoulder. “There, there, rookie. It’s all part of the McLaren experience. You’re doing great.”

Mike, looking shell-shocked, turns to the senior mechanic. “Does this happen often?”

The mechanic chuckles. “Often enough that we’ve developed a whole system to deal with it. See those guys over there?” He points to a group of team members huddled in a corner, passing around a packet of earplugs. “They’re the smart ones. Always come prepared.”

As Lando and you continue your lovefest, the rest of the garage settles into a strange sort of routine. Some team members go about their work, seemingly immune to the ongoing spectacle. Others gather in small groups, sharing knowing looks and suppressed laughter.

Oscar, still on the floor, has progressed from quiet sobs to a sort of resigned hiccupping. Daniel sits beside him, offering silent support and the occasional reassuring pat.

Mike, having given up all pretense of conducting an interview, slumps further against the workbench. “I just wanted to talk about racing,” he mumbles dejectedly.

The senior mechanic laughs. “Lesson learned, kid. Next time, stick to lap times and tire strategies.”

As the love-fest enters its second hour, Oscar finally looks up, his eyes red and puffy. “Does it ever get easier?” He asks Daniel plaintively.

Daniel grins, helping Oscar to his feet. “Nah, mate. But you do develop a certain appreciation for true love. And maybe a slight tendency towards nausea.”

Oscar manages a weak chuckle. “I guess there are worse things than witnessing too much love.”

“That’s the spirit!” Daniel says, clapping him on the back. “Now, how about we sneak off for a coffee while these two finish up their romance novel?”

As they make their way towards the exit, carefully skirting around Lando and you (who are now recreating your first dance together, much to Mike’s bewildered amusement), Oscar can’t help but shake his head.

“You know,” he says to Daniel, “when I joined McLaren, I thought the hardest part would be the racing.”

Daniel laughs. “Oh, Oscar. The racing’s the easy part. It’s surviving the Lando and Y/N love story that’s the real challenge. But hey, look on the bright side.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “There’s a bright side?”

“Sure,” Daniel says with a grin. “At least now you know what true love looks like. Even if it does make you want to cry and vomit at the same time.”

As they exit the garage, leaving behind the sound of Lando and you laughing and reminiscing, Oscar can’t help but smile. It’s been a strange journey, but he wouldn’t trade his place on this team for anything in the world.

Well, maybe for a good pair of noise-canceling headphones.

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[lovegasmic]

⋆ MONSTERFUCKING ft. dragon Zhongli w dicks², Foul Legacy Childe, Capitano w forked tongue.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, choking w all of them, oral reader receiving, ( cap. ), doggy ( ch. ) mating press ( z. )

request from @queen-belial

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

ִֶָ ZHONGLI

“absolutely divine” Zhongli purrs, voice deep and low, almost hypnotizing while dragging a sharp claw across your bottom lip, not deep enough to cut, but it stings the same as your thighs that press against your chest, uncomfortably spread and impaled on your lover’s thick cock, “your body... is made just for me, to accommodate me perfectly” it was a half truth, having spent so many years with him have thought you how to take him, accommodating your pussy walls to the shape and girth of him, and when he’a feeling extra greedy, perhaps let him slide both cocks in you? it’s a bit sad how one of them must be neglected, solely rubbing on your belly to get some friction.

a teasing roll of his hips follows, making you choke on your own saliva and eyes widen, unable to utter a word that isn’t a mindless babble with how deep Zhongli is sheathed, and of course, due to his long, clawed fingers around your throat, having you and your air flow at his complete mercy, “good?... oh, of course it is” a bit cocky, but how can you blame him when your face is an utter mess of tears and whines, not to mention the way your cunt repeatedly flutters around his fat cock, movements continuing although his hips start to pick up the pace, forcing the sticky head to repeatedly slam against your spot and your pussy to gush, only adding to the messy sound of skin slapping.

ִֶָ CHILDE

with wobbly legs and arched back is how you always find yourself after meeting up with Childe at the Golden House, your hands are both bent to your back, held by his one inhumanly large hand around your wrists, almost painfully digging his sharp nails on your tender skin, and the other... is perfectly around your neck, keeping your head up while his fat and long cock slammed into your insides, forcing for slick and precum to ooze out your hole and drip onto the floor.

sex with Childe in his Foul Legacy form is almost with no words, except for the grunts and groans, the slap of skin, and of course, your desperate squeals and screams of pleasure, repeatedly getting your needy pussy abused by the ridiculously large size of him, “it’s... nghmm so... too much...” you're blissed out, absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.

but will that stop him? no, never, in fact, your words only encourage him to go faster, almost lifting you off your feet with how strong... with how big Childe is in this form, causing you to struggle to take him, but the immense amounts of sticky precum he pours into your cunt are good lube at least.

ִֶָ CAPITANO

how many times have you found yourself perched against the nearest counter or table, legs spread and whimpering loudly with your lover’s thick tongue exploring your insides and a hand around your neck to stabilize you, although it often clenched and unclenched, stopping your air flow, almost teasing since your cunt slicked his tongue even more each time his grip tightened.

he groans deep, deep like his voice and deep like the tip of his forked, snake like tongue that pushed up against your pussy walls, dragging more delicious slickness from your hole and into his eager mouth, “so delicious, darling” he murmurs, slithering that two edged, incredibly long tongue of his inside you, exploring every corner of your wetness, cock throbbing under the thick layers of his clothes, something about having you bare and spread while Capitano remained fully clothed was absolutely perfect, only causing his length to throb and twitch at the thought, at the taste of your sweet slick.

a thick and calloused thumb reaches to rub your swollen clit, only encouraging you to cream his tongue, the one that messily slips out of your to lap at your folds, creating a wet mess all around with how lewd and uncoordinated was, purposely drenching your thighs and puffy slit before plunging inside again, mimicking how his cock will fuck you later on.

[fangswbenefits]

Devotion

Summary: You give yourself to Miguel, and he's about to show you what complete devotion looks and feels like.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 6.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Reader POV. V*rginity loss. Cr*ampie. F*ngering. C*mplay. Org*sm denial. After care. Edg*ng. Br*eding k*nk. Mentions of pregnancy.

Part 1. Previous Part.

Thank you so much to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish 🩷

Miguel had scooped you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you to his bedroom, slowly placing you on his bed.

He then leaned in to place a kiss to your temple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head back, hoping to have his lips on yours once instead. 

The truth was that you were absolutely smitten by him. Relationships are often complicated. People are complicated. Miguel was a complex person, and yet, you felt drawn to him.

You could still remember the first time you realised your feelings for him transcended those of a regular friendship.

It had begun with him looking after you in the lab. It had been innocent and fleeting enough, but the heart works in strange ways. The way he was so adamant about you having to take care of yourself awoke in you a feeling that you were seldom presented with:

Affection.

His lips hovered over yours, snapping you from your thoughts, and you brought a hand to the side of his face. "Please kiss me…"

Even through the darkness that engulfed his room, you could still spot a faint smile.

And he did as you requested. 

Your back arched nearly instantly, seeking more of him. Even though your body had barely recovered from your orgasm, you felt desire flare inside you at an alarming rate.

He quickly deepened the kiss by parting your lips with his experienced tongue, and you eagerly let him in, moving your hand to the back of his neck, yanking him closer.

Nearly losing balance, Miguel placed both hands on either side of you for support, settling in between your legs.

A moan rose in your throat, and you broke the kiss at the feeling of your clit throbbing, as the underside of his cock settled between your folds.

"We can stop."

You stared into his crimson eyes. "Do you want to stop?"

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "This isn't about me."

Oh.

Desire had clouded your mind, almost making you forget that you were still very much inexperienced. But you still craved the fluidity and eagerness of couples who already knew their way around each other's bodies… with no virginity in the way.

Truth be told, if there was anyone who you'd give yourself to, it would be Miguel O'Hara.

You wouldn't utter these words out of fear of sounding ridiculous at best, and desperate at worst.

"I want more…" you whispered instead, rolling your hips and causing his cock to slide along your clit.

He moaned, but gripped your hip to a halt with strong fingers. "Are you on birth control?"

The question caught you momentarily off guard, and you blinked. "What?"

"If you want to continue… I have to know."

"Yes—Yes, I have an implant."

Hormonal imbalance had been the sole reason, though. Irregular periods accompanied by terrible cramps had taken a toll on you. 

Pregnancy had been the farthest thing on your mind.

Miguel groaned lowly before burying his face in your neck, lips caressing your flushed skin, which caused your hips to jolt into him.

He immediately hissed from the sudden friction, and began to match your tempo deliciously slowly.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan embarrassingly loudly with each slide of his cock against your clit.

He quickly grazed his thumb across your lower lip, releasing it from your teeth's grasp. "Please… let me hear you…"

The plea mixed with his gentle touch was enough to have your mouth part in a whimper. 

"Louder."

Your eyes fluttered shut once the tips of his fangs began to poke your skin, and you couldn't hold back the loud moan that erupted from your throat.

Wet sounds and sticky sounds echoed all around you, as you began to drip, adding more and more layers of your own wetness around his cock. 

Ambient lights were suddenly switched on, an orange and yellow gradient filling your field of vision.

Miguel brought his lips to your cheek. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sank your fingers into his soft hair, arching your back slightly, your nipple piercings digging into the taut muscles of his chest.

In reality, you were terrified. Miguel seemed to be on the thicker side than what you had expected, and you didn't see yourself taking more than one of his fingers, so his cock definitely overwhelmed you.

Would it hurt? Would he be gentle? Would you even enjoy it?

The preconception that having sex for the first time was a painful ordeal was engraved into your subconscious. Growing up, you had heard some scary recounts of first times from your friends. 

But you were still clinging on to the hope that Miguel knew what he was doing. 

So you took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure…"

He shifted to press a kiss to your forehead. "You can tell me to stop if it gets too much," he murmured. "And I will."

You had no doubt he would. 

But it still made your heart speed up, and an uneasy feeling spread throughout your body rather quickly.

He reached over you to grip one long pillow and eased it under you until your back pressed against it, angling your torso so your eyes could be met with the sight of his cock dripping precum. 

Now you understood why he had turned the lights on.

Then, you heard a click and stared as he removed his dimensional travel watch, placing it on his bedside table.

Oh.

Your soaked folds were wrapped snugly around him, and you gasped as you spotted your swollen clit peeking from under his cock.

"Does that feel good?" Miguel asked, voice strained. 

You could only stare in complete and utter fascination, as he kept dripping more and more precum, the droplets eventually running down along your folds.

"Yes… you're really…" you paused briefly, completely transfixed with the amount of precum. "Is it normal for you to…"

Miguel's eyes followed your line of sight, and he chuckled upon realising what you meant. 

"With you, yes."

His bluntness had your walls clench instinctively around nothing in anticipation.

He then raised his hips and you watched as strings of precum mixed with your wetness dangled from his cock, before he kneeled at your side, slowly dipping the mattress.

You were about to protest at the loss of contact, but he immediately silenced you with a hungry kiss, drawing a couple of whimpers from you.

The taste of him had become so familiar to you by now, that it served to soothe your frustration and impatience.

Your hand tapped around blindly until it found what it was looking for.

Wrapping your fingers tightly around his hard cock, you tugged gently, and Miguel quickly broke the kiss with a delicious hiss. "Fuck…"

The heat pooling between your legs was becoming unbearable and, with each throb of your clit, uncertainty gave way to burning desire.

"Miguel… please…"

He pecked your cheek. "I need you ready for me."

You pouted in response. "I am."

He then brought his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "Can you take more than one of my fingers, then?"

Your heart faltered once you felt one hand trail down from your neck, caressing your hardened nipples, before traveling down until it reached your swollen clit.

"Can you, sweet girl?"

That term of endearment had begun to grow on you, and it almost made you moan out your answer.

"I think… I think so," you said, trying to muster your confidence.

He then pressed a kiss to the pulse point on your neck.

You watched as he traced your clit with his middle finger, coating it in your wetness. The view was hypnotic and you stifled a moan as he rubbed at your entrance once, before plunging the finger inside.

As if seeking an immediate anchor, you gripped his cock tighter, feeling beads of precum steadily spreading across your hand.

"Easy, cariño… not so tight."

This wasn't even considered dirty talking, but it was enough to have you buck your hips against him, and he eased inside easily, burying himself knuckle-deep. 

Crimson eyes watched your every reaction attentively, and you gasped as the heel of his palm pressed down on your throbbing clit.

"Tell me how it feels," Miguel cooed, sliding in and out of you at a torturous pace. "I need to know."

You hummed in response, trying your best to ride his finger through throaty whimpers.

He paused abruptly. "Use your words."

You snapped your half-hooded eyes to him. "It feels good… really go-" the word died in your mouth as he began pumping into you once again.

He unclasped your fingers from around his cock. "I know you're eager, but if you keep touching it like that I won't last…"

You were sticking out your lower lip in a silent plea, but decided to bring your precum-soaked hand to your breasts, letting the warm liquid drip onto your nipples, earning an approving growl from Miguel.

"Do you think you can take a second one?" he asked, bending over to swipe his tongue across one nipple. "You set the pace."

The sight of him tasting himself on you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced, and you immediately nodded, just so you could feel his tongue again.

Suddenly, you felt a second digit probing at your entrance, and you couldn't keep your chest from heaving rapidly at the stretch.

Miguel shifted closer to you, catching your eyes in his. "Relax, cariño… you're doing great."

You tried. You really did try to stop your walls from tightening around his fingers, but your body was moving involuntarily at the sudden intrusion.

He placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. "Nearly there…"

A raspy whimper parted your lips and you allowed yourself to relax ever so slightly, until he was buried as deep as he could.

The discomfort of the stretch turned into impatience, and you rolled your hips, seeking more and more friction.

"More…" you mumbled desperately.

Your eyes dropped to the mesmerising motion of both fingers sliding in and out, glistening with your wetness, as your swollen clit peeked from between your folds.

Wet sounds filled your ears and your head fell back once his palm pressed against your clit. Miguel immediately took advantage of this angle, and had his lips on your neck, sacking gently.

The familiar coil in your lower abdomen warned you that you were nearing the point of no return. The delicious friction mixed with his thick fingers fucking you at a steady pace.

"You're so close…"

You bit down on your lip so hard you feared drawing blood. At this point, you didn't trust yourself to utter any words, and chose to lose yourself in the blissful moment.

Miguel took your hand in his and had your fingers wrap around his cock once again with a hiss. He was so thick and hard and warm and leaking so for you.

"Let me fuck your hand…" he growled into your neck, snapping his hips. "Just… squeeze harder…"

You eagerly gripped him tighter, feeling strings of precum sliding down your wrists as he matched his hips with the tempo of his fingers inside you.

"Miguel… Miguel…" you managed to moan as you neared the precipice.

His lips were on yours all of a sudden, and you crumbled under his touch, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue found yours.

You were so close.

So deliciously close.

"You’re doing so good," he praised you over and over again.

Your back arched reflexively as the blissful turbulence of an orgasm began to wash over you.

And then, it was gone.

Your peak never came and your moans immediately died in your throat.

Confusion took a violent hold on you, as you slumped into the pillow and mattress underneath you.

Miguel had removed himself from you entirely, and you were left clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his touch.

"Miguel…why?!" you protested, as you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

You dropped your hand from his cock to grip the sheets, hoping to rein in your frustration in between sobs.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding truthfully. "I want you to come around my cock, cariño…" he added, before kissing your quivering lips.

You wanted to be mad at him for denying you of your pleasure, but he managed to gain a nod from you instead. 

The mattress dipped around you and even through closed eyes, you could tell he was positioned right between your legs.

He then brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. You felt slightly taken aback, not expecting him to do this.

"You taste really good."

You laughed nervously. "I do?"

His lips tugged upwards. "Don't take my word for it, then."

He brought two glistening digits to your lips and you immediately took them in, savouring yourself on him.

You sucked on him for a moment, enjoying how he looked so smitten by it.

He pressed your tongue flat with his fingers, before sliding out, saliva dangling from the tips.

"You're so hot."

That compliment threw you for a loop, and you immediately looked away, not quite feeling like you deserved it.

He cradled your face with his hands. "Look at me."

Slowly, but surely, your eyes met his as you tried to even out your laboured breaths. 

"You are. You are beautiful."

Your heart clenched and you were left speechless at how genuine he sounded.

You felt like you could cry from this. You didn't cry easily, but his words always found a way to tug at your heartstrings like no one had ever managed to. 

He craned his neck to press a soft kiss to your wet lips, and you felt his cock resting against your throbbing clit.

"Are you sure of this?"

"I am. Please, Miguel…"

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm not going to last long," he whispered softly. "But neither are you."

The jab at your stolen orgasm had you pouting at him.

He groaned in response. "Try to relax as much as you can, okay?"

You swallowed hard with a determined nod. "Okay."

You felt his cock slide along your soaked folds, grazing your clit, before you felt a small pressure at your opening.

Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain and discomfort.

But Miguel kept his hold on your face with one hand. "Please look at me…" 

You took a deep breath and mustered the strength to stare into his crimson eyes. 

"I've got you," he promised, brushing his knuckles across your heated cheek.

And you believe him.

Even when you felt the tip being pushed slowly into you, your breath caught. Your gaze faltered and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp. You felt his other hand press flat against your thighs, and you spread your legs as much as possible, hoping it would be enough to ease him in.

"Breathe…"

You slowly let out a shaky breath, realising he had stopped.

"Are you okay?"

No.

You wanted to be, but you could feel yourself tense up and you brought your hands to claw at his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin flex as he adjusted himself.

But you still nodded. You wanted to be done with this. First times can be tricky, but you would have to keep your fear of pain at bay until the worst had come and come.

He pushed his hips into you again, and the stretch had you holding your breath again, as a sharp sting tore through your entire body.

You didn't dare breathe.

Your chest became so tight it ached, and you felt the familiar tension in your eyes, as the first tears began to blur your vision.

"Stop… please…" you begged, tapping on his back.

He immediately halted, his face softening. "Do you want me to pull out?"

You shook your head, the motion causing one tear to slide down from the corner of your eye. He captured it with his lips, a silent reassurance that he would take care of you.

Deep down, you feared he might be turned off by your hesitancy. You were sure he wanted to go deeper and faster, but the discomfort was gripping you hard.

"How much…" you sobbed, staring down at the length of your body to find where the two of you were connected. "... is it almost there?"

Miguel smiled warmly at you. "Nearly there, sweet girl."

Your lungs expanded with a deep inhale and you sighed through your nose. "Go…"

You dug your nails into his skin as he slid deeper inside, drawing a sharp gasp from you. This time, you had to bite down on your lip again, feeling Miguel's unwavering stare on your face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. Not now. Not when you were so close to being filled to the brim with him. No amount of pain or discomfort would take that away from you now.

He was being so gentle and caring, assuring that you were the priority here. 

And you wanted this to be on equal grounds, soon.

His pleasure would be yours.

Your pleasure would be his.

He was kissing every single tear away, whispering praises, and you knew he was fully buried inside, once he stopped moving again.

This time, you felt him shudder under your touch, breath coming out in shallow pants.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and shaky.

"Yes."

You would be soon. 

The pain hadn't been as bad as you had expected and once you began to relax, you could feel the remnants of it slowly fading.

The two of you remained still for a few more seconds, with only the erratic breathing keeping you company.  

"I'm not going to last long," he confessed, burying his face in the curve of your neck. "Can you relax a bit more?"

You tried to drain the tension from your muscles, and you immediately felt his cock twitching inside you.

He was so deep...

"Please move," you asked, ready for what was to come.

Miguel inhaled sharply, and you felt him drag it out slowly, earning a few pained whimpers from how thick he was.

Before you could take a deep breath, he slammed slowly into you.

Your clit was swelling up again and you knew he had bottomed out again when you felt his balls press into you.

But you needed more. You needed to feel more.

"Can you go faster…"

He dragged his fangs along your shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Please…" you begged.

Miguel set a slow pace at first, and you heard the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him, which had him groan with each thrust.

Your gaze was on how his cock reappeared only to disappear back inside you, visibly struggling to move past your tightness. 

"So good… fuck…así… no pares," you heard him mumble mindlessly each time he pushed all the way back into you.

You managed to snake one hand in between your bodies, and you immediately gasped as the tips of your fingers slid past your clit only to finally touch his slippery cock.

His pace quickened slightly, and he removed your hand with his, pressing down on your pulsing clit.

"Just… just like that…" you whimpered breathlessly.

You arched into him, your pierced nipples digging into his chest, and he suddenly stilled.

"I need you to come first," he rasped, drawing circles around your clit. "Please… please…"

There was something incredibly riveting about having Miguel O'Hara begging. Such a strong and serious man, was now on top of you, completely taken by how you milked his cock, and how close he was

His thumb left your clit, and he pulled his torso away from you and moved back, pressing your legs together with both hands and pushing your knees into your chest.

The new position nearly pushed you over the edge, as your walls pressed further around his cock. His thumb was on your clit in an instant, and you moaned and whimpered, gripping the sheets with both hands, holding on for dear life, as he skilfully brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me… clench around me, cariño," he urged desperately.

You heard the sound of fabric tear as your grip tightened around the bedsheets, plunging you into a blinding orgasm. Your vision blurred and you arched your back, feeling rhythmic contractions ripple across your walls, gripping his cock hard.

As your chest heaved rapidly with a rush of adrenaline, you felt him slam into you only twice before reaching his own peak.

"Mierda, te sientes tan bien… carajo," he mumbled in between groans, as he buried himself as deep as possible, finally spilling himself inside.

Even through the numbness of your orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you with a burst of warmth.

Beads of sweat poured from your skin, and you felt completely spent by the time he finally slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips once he was fully out, and your walls involuntarily clenched.

You felt him slide his cock along your folds a few times, the added  friction on your oversensitive clit making your jolt.

He released his hold on your legs, and you let them flop down, feeling something beginning to seep out of you.

"Wait here," he said as he slid out of bed and pressing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips. 

You remained still for a few seconds, before curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to slide your band in between your legs. 

A warm liquid began to coat your fingers and you propped yourself on one elbow, watching in awe as your clit and folds were covered in his cum.

You dragged a small quantity from your entrance and brought it to your lips, eager to finally taste it.

Its saltiness and warmth invaded your mouth and collected it with your tongue, slowly swallowing all of it. 

"Does it taste good?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you found Miguel standing next to you, fully naked. He was a complete marvel of muscle and beauty, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as his burning gaze bore into you.

He had a towel in his hand, and slowly kneeled on the floor, tapping his finger to your jaw to have you fully face him.

Miguel was so very handsome. It was almost criminal. Sweat-damp strands of thick hair covered his forehead and you brought your free hand to brush some of them aside.

"Does it taste good, cariño?"

You smiled innocently, removing your fingers from your mouth. "You can taste it yourself."

Miguel's lips met yours and his tongue slipped past them hungrily. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pushed some of his cum with your tongue into his.

He eventually broke the kiss and you felt the soft fabric of the towel being softly pressed to your forehead.

Some drops of cum coated his gorgeous lips and you found yourself unable to look away from his face.

"Let me take care of you."

Affection and devotion.

You nodded as exhaustion slowly weighed down your body. 

His lips curled into a faint smile and you mimicked him. "What?"

"You're so… perfect," he drawled out, sliding the towel down the side of your face and neck.

You giggled. "Is this a post-sex thing?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking very serious all of a sudden. "You're doubting me?"

Your smile faded slowly. "Oh, I just… I… don't think I'm perfect. No one is."

Miguel pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to your breasts as he continued to pat the sweat away.

"You are to me," he mumbled.

You had heard so much about love over the years, and thought Tom had been the personification of it in your life. Even after what had happened between you two, you never doubted he was the one who had gotten away.

But now?

You weren't so sure anymore.

And it wasn't because Miguel was so easy to offer you compliments and praises. That was easy to do. It was much harder to be stricter with those one cared about, and Miguel didn't hold back from grounding you when you needed the most. 

After all, he managed to get a hold of your heart with the way he took care of you.

Just like he was doing so now.

He reached in between your legs, and you jolted from the surprise.

"Was I too rough?" he asked, uncertainty dripping from his low voice.

You shook your head. "You were perfect."

His crimson eyes met yours and you smiled warmly, allowing him to clean the cum mixed with your own wetness. 

"You said no one is perfect."

"I'll make an exception for you," you said, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, and your vision darkened as your breathing steadied. You faintly felt more cum drip out, which Miguel quickly wiped, and vaguely wondered how much was still left inside you.

But your thoughts were cut off by your drowsiness, feeling exhausted and as you lay limp on the mattress.

You were almost dozing off when you heard his voice. "Want to take a shower?"

A grumble left your throat. "Later… I'm so tired."

"I'll carry you."

For the second time that night, Miguel took you in his arms with little to no effort, and sauntered into his bathroom, occasionally pressing loving kisses to your face.

You had looped your arms around his neck for support and groaned lightly as he stepped into the shower, tepid water hitting your skin gently.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, yes…" you said, fighting through a yawn and landing on your feet and easing your hold around him.

Miguel silently washed your back witj both hands, and you were able to feel more cum drip from inside you, blending in with the running water.

You pressed your forehead to the tile as he moved the wet piece of cloth in between your legs, and you flinched away.

"Did I hurt you?"

"It's just a bit sore…" you breathed out, reaching down to touch your numb clit. "It's fine… don't worry."

You then turned around to face him and tip-toed to place a wet kiss to his jaw.

Adoration didn't even begin to cover how you felt about this man.

Maybe he would be your first 'I love you'.

Maybe.

- 2 months later -

Miguel shot his laser-like string of web to the side wall of glass that led to his apartment. 

The window was open, and he smiled to himself.

You were home.

He flung himself upwards, the opening presenting itself as the perfect entryway, and he swung through it, landing gracefully on the tiled floor. 

His digital mask vanished, and he ran a hand through unruly hair.

Immediately, his senses were hit with the familiar smell of freshly cooked empanadas, and he immediately smiled as you entered the kitchen, specks of flour resting on your cheeks.

"Hey, you," you greeted sweetly.

"Hey."

He closed the gap between you two in an instant, taking your face in his hands.

"Are these empanadas all for myself?"

Your eyes fell to his lips. "Depends."

He dusted off some of the flour with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. "On what?"

"Payment."

"Oh, really?"

You hummed, bringing your lips so close to his, he could feel your breath fanning them lightly.

"What sort of payment, sweet girl?"

He could almost taste you, and his heart jolted in his chest. 

It seemed that he was doomed to having your presence have this permanent effect on him. No matter how much time passed, he could not get accustomed to the hold you had on him 

"One kiss."

He quickly complied, tasting your sweetness.

You were quick to break the kiss, however. "And… promise you won't be upset."

At this, he felt a faint scowl settle on his face. "What did you do?"

The reply to his question came in the form of Peter B. Parker waltzing into the kitchen, with an empanada stuffed in his mouth.

He waved and tried to speak, but his voice only came out muffled and intelligible.

Miguel's scowl deepened and he glared at you, earning an innocent shrug.

"Peter and MJ are visiting, and I thought it would be nice to invite them over," you said endearingly, offering him a napkin.

Peter beamed. "Thank you! And Miguel… not a surprise to see you here," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.

MJ walked in with Mayday clinging to her shoulder. "Hey, Miguel!"

He inwary winced, already anticipating an upcoming headache. In all honesty, he just wanted to spend some time with you after arriving from a mission, and now…

"MJ," he greeted flatly, before patting Mayday on the head, her curls bouncing lightly.

She stuck out her tongue in response before breaking into laughter.

"He's not even using doors anymore, Peter," MJ started with a devious smile. "It's serious."

Peter nodded, taking Mayday into his hands. "Definitely serious."

Miguel's scowl deepened further and he watched as you laughed nervously.

The two of you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. Miguel would rather keep it that way.

Why?

Because this was the result, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Oh, wipe that frown off your face, Miguel O'Hara," MJ scolded. "Everyone knows about you two, already."

"What?"

Peter quickly brought Mayday to him. "Here, hold her. It will calm you down!"

Miguel reflexively took her in his arms, but kept his gaze on MJ. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, joining your side, as you began to clean off the counter. "All the missions together… always coming in together… spending time at the lab," she continued, listing off everything with each finger. "Peter and Jessica told me all about it."

Anger flared inside him briefly, but it quickly plummeted as defeat took over.

"Just a coincidence."

MJ shrugged. "Sure."

Mayday sat on his shoulder, tugging gently at a few strands of his hair, giggling. He winced in pain and removed her from him in an instant, holding her far away from him.

You turned to him and moved to grab her from his grip, pressing her adoringly against your chest. "Don't worry, Mayday. He's just a little bit grumpy, but he's a cutie, too!"

His scowl softened at the sight of Mayday melting into your touch.

You really were a natural at this...

"You're the cutest, though," you whispered in her ear, and she immediately gave you an ear-to-ear grin.

MJ was glaring intensely at him with a knowing smile, and he cleared his throat.

The last thing he needed was them realising how he yearned to be a father, with you carrying his children.

"You're so good with Mayday," Peter praised, stealing another empanada from the plate, and earning a death glare from Miguel who considered hiding them away. "Imagine Mayday and Jessica's kid having another friend to play with!"

Your eyes widened lightly. "Oh! I… I think…"

Miguel wanted to catapult Peter through the window, but he wouldn't do so in front of his wife and child. He always found a way to be inconvenient, and even though Miguel agreed with him on this, he couldn't let it show.

Out of spite.

MJ motioned for him to cut it off, and the two of them walked out, leaving a babbling MJ with you.

You chuckled. "They're good fun, right?"

No.

But he wouldn't dispute that with you, because this was what you did. You adored making people around you feel included and your love language definitely spoke louder.

As you rocked Mayday against your chest, lulling her into a peaceful silence. 

"Actually, I have something for you," you whispered with a smile.

Miguel's brow quirked again. "Please don't tell me Hobie Brown is about to burst through the ceiling."

His remark caused you to stifle a giggle. "No, but he might pop up later today."

Miguel's face hardened again.

"I'm kidding, Mr. Grumpy," you said, pointing to an envelope on the table. "Open it."

He glared suspiciously at you before shifting his attention to the piece of paper. Once he unsealed it, he peered closely at what was inside.

A small plastic rod.

His eyes widened and his lips parted.

That was…

"Yeah. I had my implant removed," you said, standing close to him. "The spider-doctor told me to wait out for my next cycle, but…" You began rubbing Mayday's back as she dozed off with a yawn. "Pregnancy can happen earlier than that if we try…"

Miguel was too perplexed to say anything.

You were indeed aware of his breeding kink, and he would gladly give you as much time as you needed. Even if you ended up deciding not wanting to have children, he would be more than fine with that decision.

He was too in love with you to push you beyond your comfort zone.

And yet… here you were, willingly fulfilling his wishes.

"Say something," you said, nudging his arm with yours.

He swallowed, finally meeting your eyes. "You didn't have to…"

You nodded. "But I want to, Miguel. And I know you want it, too."

There was no denying it. The past few months had been torturous at times. Each time he fucked you raw and spilled inside you, knowing fully well nothing would come of it. Witnessing his seed going to waste would torment him.

He pressed his hand to your head and pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Te amo."

You lifted your head to stare at him. "I love you, too."

- A couple of weeks later -

Miguel stormed into the lab later that afternoon, needing a refill of his serum.

But he didn't expect to see you still there, sitting on a chair, and tapping at the screen in front of you.

"What happened?"

Your head turned and he was met with tired eyes. "Oh, I was wondering if you could draw some blood."

Alarm bells chimed inside his head right away and he was quickly in front of you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"I'm okay, Miguel," you assured him with a faint curl of your lips. "Just want to check something."

You sounded off.

So he quickly gathered what he needed to comply with your request, always eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

He came to sit next to you and motioned his fingers so you'd lay out your arm for him.

"Did something happen?" he pressed again, pulling the sleeve of your lab coat upwards.

You shook your head, gaze dropping to his hands. 

He wasn't convinced in the slightest, but decided to give you some space, offering a respectful silence.

Hi fingers tapped your skin, tied a latex glove just above your elbow as a tournique, seeking a bulging vein. 

"It's funny…" you said with a sigh. 

Miguel lifted his eyes briefly, finding yours staring right back at him. "What is?"

The faintest tug at the corner of your lips had him relax slightly. 

"The first time I met you… you also drew my blood for testing," you said, and your tone told him you held the memory of it fondly. "And now, here we are again."

"Under different circumstances, I'm sure."

"Better ones."

He was unsure of what you meant by that, so he dropped his eyes to your arm again. Once he found what he was looking for, he punctured the soft barrier of skin, watching as the vial in between his fingers filled with liquid.

As he withdrew from you and pressed a pad to the wound, a weird feeling began to loom over him.

Could it be that...

He eyed you curiously, hoping for you to confirm his suspicions, but you remained silent.

"Apply some pressure," he asked, and you nodded, your fingers replacing his.

Scooting over to the analysis machine, he placed the vial inside and watched the liquid being sucked inside.

"Why do you need your blood tested?"

You shrugged, but he could sense you were holding something back.

By the time the first results began to appear on the hovering screen, he scanned them, looking for an outlier. 

It didn't take long for it to show up.

Miguel's heart lurched as the confirmation hit him, and he checked it twice, but there was no mistake.

< hCG (mIU/ml) - 145 >

The human chorionic gonadotropin was colloquially referred to as the pregnancy hormone, and its level could inform how far along a pregnancy was. 

This value had Miguel guess you were around three weeks. 

"Why didn’t you tell me right away?" he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He felt you looping your arm around his, resting your head on it. "I figured it would be more romantic than peeing on a stick and showing it to you," you chuckled softly.

In all honesty, he wouldn't care either way. 

How could he?

In front of him was the proof that the bond he shared with you was now bearing fruit.

"... besides… this is your field, right? Genetics," you said, tightening your grip around him. "It felt right for you to find out this way."

Miguel felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, upon realising just how you never missed anything. Down to the last detail. Everything you did always held a purpose, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.

"I…"

You shifted until you were in front of him, and quickly laced your arms around his waist, placing your chin on his broad chest, eyeing him with absolute adoration. "Come on, Miguel… don't tell me you're surprised it happened so quickly."

He truly wasn't.

He had bred you over and over again over the past few weeks, always making sure you would lay still after each time, a pillow under you, not allowing any cum from going to waste.

You had protested at first, but he excelled at providing after care, and those sessions soon turned into opportunities at exploring your intimacy to the point you were eager to be filled over and over again.

His sweet girl…

"I think I love you," he blurted out, immediately realising how ridiculous he sounded. 

Your chuckle reverberated across his skin. "You think? I hope you're more sure than that. There's no turning back now."

His arms circled you, pulling you into a tighter embrace as his gaze met yours. "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Everything."

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has been with this story from beginning to end. It means a lot. I hope you were able to connect with these characters in one way or another 🩷 I will be missing Miguel and sweet girl so much... this story wouldn't be anything without your vital support, and I will forever be grateful! Ruby~

Masterlist

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

+18 mdni: Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

imagination part three

part one part two

words: 1.6k

warning: 18+ only! smut, groping, semi public dirty talk??, male receiving handjob, mentions of male receiving oral mentions of losing virginity

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl

“what is it darling?” rafe asks, waving his hand in front of your face to break your trance.

“nothing.” you shake your head, moving closer to rafe so you can lean your head against his shoulder.

“nothing?” rafe questions, placing his hand on your waist. “you're not thinking about my cock right now?”

“rafe, oh my god there are people around!” you whisper shout, eyes darting to the other people sitting near you at the party. they're involved in their own conversations, but that doesn't mean someone isn't eavesdropping on you and rafe.

“aww, you don't want anyone else to know how much of a slut you are for my dick?” rafe says, but at least he lowers his volume this time to not get picked up by anyone else, especially not over the music pumping from the speakers.

“i have sucked you off one time, i wouldn't call that being a slut.” you cross your arms over your chest. truth is, you wish you could be a slut for him, but ever since rafe fucked your face, he has absolutely refused to fuck you, always claiming that he wanted to give you more time to think about losing your virginity.

“and you've thought about doing it again every day, haven't you baby?” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “my little cutie. my little slut.”

“stoooop.” you whine, shifting how you're sitting so your legs are pressed tighter together.

“what? you don't like me talking dirty to you? so you wouldn't like it if i got my cock out right now and shoved your face down on it?” rafe smirks at your reaction, suddenly squirming in your seat.

“im gonna get up and leave.” you threaten, but it's an empty threat and rafe knows it.

“im sorry, baby.” rafe says. “ill stop teasing you. besides, can't have your pretty cunt leaking all over toppers couch.”

--

“is that a new bikini?” rafe asks as you step onto his yacht.

“no, i just haven't worn it in a while.” you shrug. you were feeling the purple vibes lately, so decided to go with a lilac swimsuit for your day on the water with rafe.

“you look so sexy, darling.” rafe says, cupping your breast. you gasp, eyes darting around to the other ships in the marina.

“no one is looking.” rafe says before dropping his head to your neck, pressing kisses onto your skin as he continues to toy with your chest. you tilt your head back in a moan, arching your back slightly.

“can’t wait until i can get my mouth on your cute nipples.” rafe says, giving your nipple a pinch over the fabric of your bikini, making you cry out.

“now, rafey, please.” you beg, trying to move his head towards your chest, but he’s too strong and easily evades you. 

“nope.” he saunters away, leaving you standing on the deck of the yacht as he heads to navigate you out of the marina, imagining him taking you right there.

--

“dance with me?” rafe asks, and you quickly nod, getting bored of just sitting around. it was fun at first watching rafe and topper interact, which was mostly rafe making fun of topper, but then topper got pulled away by kelce.

you accept rafes hand up, leading you towards the makeshift dance floor, a congregation of people that easily move away to give rafe space. he is far too intimidating to crowd around.

you move to the beat, slowly building up your dancing as rafe places his hands on your hips. you giggle at his attention being solely on looking down your dress, at the cleavage spilling out the top.

“like what you see?” you ask.

“you know it, baby. gonna fuck your tits one day, cum all over them.”

you let out a groan, partly from being turned on by his words and partly from knowing he isn’t going to do anything yet. you turn in his hold, pressing your back against rafes chest as a new song comes on, and you don’t hold back, not caring who sees as you grind your bum back against his crotch.

“you trying to make me hard, y/n?” rafe questions, speaking directly into your ear so you can hear as the music gets turned up.

you don’t need to question that it’s working, you can feel him hardening against your ass, but instead of taking you upstairs like you hope, when the song ends, rafe kisses your cheek and tells you he’s going to the bar to get you more drinks.

--

“i’m gonna go take a shower, baby.” you tell rafe, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you move through the living room.

rafe is quick to get off the couch and follow you up the stairs, “i’ll join you.”

you stop dead in the tracks, halfway across the landing. “really?”

“yeah.” rafe nods. “as long as you control yourself.” 

“you don’t want me to suck you off again?” you ask, batting your eyes as you begin moving again, now wanting to get into the shower as quickly as possible.

“maybe i’ll let you stroke me.” rafe shrugs as you head into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. 

your hands begin to move to undress, but rafe stops you with a hand around your wrist. “let me do it for you.” 

you nod, but wish you would have pushed back more when you realize how slow rafe is moving, toying with the hem of your dress before pulling it up inch by inch, slowly revealing more skin. your panties are the first thing on display, and then the smooth expanse of your stomach, and then finally you raise your arms so rafe can expose your bra and pull the dress over your head.

rafes hands work skillfully behind your back at taking off your bra, letting it fall to the floor as his hands move to cup your tits like he did before on the boat, this time with nothing in the way. you let out a moan as his thumbs swipe over your nipples until they are hard peaks. 

rafe smirks, satisfied, and then glides his hands down your sides until he lands on your hips. his slides a finger underneath the band of your underwear, pulling it back and then letting it go, making you wince when it snaps back against your skin.

“hey!” you complain, but rafe ignores you, pulling your underwear down your legs and letting them drop to the floor. his eyes make contact with your core for a second before he looks back up to your eyes.

“go turn the shower on.” he says, pulling his shirt off. “let the water warm up.”

“mkay.” you say, moving to turn the water on. you turn once it’s done, watching rafe as he undresses until you’re both standing there naked. 

“you’re so gorgeous.” rafe moves closer, placing his hand on your waist, his cock already half hard. he bends down and gives you a kiss. you press yourself closer, deepening the kiss as your hands come to rafes neck.

“please, rafey, i want you.” you whimper.

“get in the shower.” rafe backs you up until you step into the shower, underneath the water. you shiver despite the water being warm.

rafe begins his normal shower routine, squirting some shampoo onto his hand before rubbing it into his head. you frown and begin to clean yourself as well, when rafe stops you, massaging the shampoo into your scalp for you.

“that feels so good.” you hum, loving when rafes plays with your hair.

rafe smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before continuing. after you both rinse your heads, he applies your conditioner for you, working it through your curls with his fingers.

“here you go baby.” rafe hands you a soaped up loofah, and you realize that now he’s giving you permission to clean him. you turn and lather his arms before moving over his chest and abs. 

when you get lower, you drop the loofah onto the shower floor and take his cock in your hand, already fully hard just from being around you naked. “now this part of you is very dirty.” you purr, stroking your hand over his length.

“fuck.” rafe curses, pushing his hips forward into your hand. “you little minx.”

“maybe i wouldn’t be so desperate if you just finally fucked me.” you pout, moving your hand faster.

“rinse your fucking hair then.” rafe says, making you pause and look away from his cock to his face. 

“what?”

“rinse the conditioner out of your hair so i can fuck you on the bed. i’m not taking your virginity in the shower.” 

“you’re actually going to?” you ask, a smile coming to your face, excited for the months of teasing to come to an end.

“yes if you stop stroking me before i bust.” rafe groans, causing you to giggle and let go of his cock, not even realizing that you were still stroking it.

you quickly move back under the spray of the shower, rinsing your hair clean. rafe rinses himself quickly too, his cock red and pulsing with need as you hop out of the shower, quickly towling yourself dry.

rafe scoops you up in his arms, not even caring about dripping water all over the floor as he heads into the bedroom, practically throwing you down onto the bed before crawling on top of you.

“remember what i told you that first night?” rafe whispers in your ear. “i am going to destroy your pussy.”

[missyandthemisfits]

Tokyo Revengers-Do They Believe In Sex Before Marriage?

18+ WARNING, NSFW

Mikey – Pfft, do you even have to ask? He’s got NO qualms about sneaking (it’s not sneaky at all) you off from the group in-between meetings and giving you the most satisfying of quickies, needy and demanding as he pushes you up against the alleyway wall. Quite the exhibitionist this one. No, the real challenge will be convincing Mikey that marriage is something worth having  ‘cause let’s face it, he ain’t buying what they’re selling. 

Draken – Honestly, he would much MUCH rather be wed before he’s plowing his impressive length down into your slick, but alas, he’s a man with needs and desires. That said, if you really wanna wait until marriage, he’s not forcing you to do anything you don’t want. He will, however, ask for other things, to give and to receive them. 

Mitsuya – Oh, he’s a man on a mission to be married with children, I can assure you of that. He probably wants to be married before making his dream of having you a moaning mess of a person beneath him come true. Buuut, he’s all for fooling around beforehand if you are. And if you wanna wait, he’s waiting, no questions asked. #Gentlemengonnagentleman

Hakkai – Baby boy really really wants to wait until marriage, he’s hella embarrassed about even thinking about you in those compromising positions, spread so deliciously for him and only him. But also, he’s incredibly weak willed when it comes to you and your wishes so despite weak protests, he’s not stopping anything. As a religious man though, he will feel guilty about it.  

Baji – He absolutely intends to sleep with you before he pops the question – gotta take the car out for a test drive before you purchase it, right? (Words uttered only to Chifuyu who is sworn nay threatened to secrecy). He fantasizes about being balls deep in you like clockwork and when he finally gets that chance? He’s not giving it up for anything. Feel free to try and stop him. 

Chifuyu – He’s torn, he really is. Has he fantasized about you exposed to him in a mating press? God yes. But does he also think there’s something incredibly and undeniably romantic about waiting until your wedding night? Also a strong yes. Decides he can’t make that type of decision, so whatever you want is what you’ll get, 100%. 

Takemichi – HaHA – let him tell it and ‘I-It’s only natural for a hotblooded young man to want those types of things! Right…?’ Grade A dork. But truth be told, he wants to wait as long as he possibly can (he’s afraid he’ll mess it all up) , he’s really aiming until the marriage thing but knows things just happen, like that one time you were clawing at his jeans on your knees- still fantasizes about that, the horn dog.

Atsushi – He wants to wait. His mother raised him on strong values and he’s not keen on disrespecting you or himself by taking things farther than he, or you, think they should go. Now, will he lap at your most sensitive bits like a dog in heat? Yea, but I mean, that’s not really going all the way, ya know? Gotta love loopholes. 

Nahoya – Maaaan oh man is this boy pervy. Within the first month, he’s got his hands on your ass with that devilish smirk, making all sorts of dirty jokes and disgusting remarks. Wants it and wants it bad. Tries his best to be respectful but has a very hard time stopping at just your sexy mouth, even if he just came. Stop him from going further and he will be frustrated, frowning for once. Doesn’t even know if he fully believes in marriage, he just wants to be inside you as long as you’ll tolerate him – or for as long he can tolerate you. 

Souya – The total and complete opposite of his twin – where Nahoya can be incredibly pushy and demanding, Souya is all light touchs and sweet nothings, asking permission for everything, from hand holding to kissing. In an ideal world, he’s waiting until you’re both married (which he plans on being) to make you his completely. Incredibly honored (and nervous) that you even asked him to pleasure you with his tongue, and what a surprisingly skilled tongue it is. Doesn’t expect more, doesn’t even expect reciprocation, perfectly happy just pleasing you - so when you do palm at his hardened and constrained member, lowering yourself to your knees well… who is he to deny you? Not like he could say ‘No’ if he tried. 

Kazutora – Poor dear is traumatized – doesn’t honestly know whether or not he believes in marriage and it shows in the way he stops everything at the question. He can’t promise you he’ll ever come to a real conclusion, but what he can promise you is that he will be by your side for as long as you’ll have him, a lifelong partner. His kiss goes from sweet to hungry in a matter of seconds though, and he’s on top of you before you know it, eyes begging for you to help him to his release. 

Hanma – Never even considers the idea of marriage before you, too preoccupied with curing his boredom to really care either way. However, he finds himself considering the notion, genuinely excited about it and suddenly, he can’t wait. He’s not looking for anyone else once he’s locked in, sincerely – but getting him to stop his long fingers from slowly moving in and out of you was something you always struggled with. Fuck, would you be able to keep your own promise at this point? 

 Taiju – You might be surprised but as someone who devotes himself to his religion, he thinks it’s only right to wait until marriage, almost impatiently waiting, praying, for the day you take his damn near monstrous length like the good slut you are. Until then, he’s more than happy to prep you with his admittedly very large fingers. Good luck! 

Kokonoi – More concerned with whether or not you’re able to have an intellectual conversation with him really, pretty low libido. More than likely, he’ll wait until marriage, it’s not a bother or inconvenience to him in the slightest. More than happy to have your back against his chest, lazily playing with your naughty bits while enjoying a good movie, chin resting on your shoulder. May ask for reciprocation every now and then, but he’s a whiner so that’s fun. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring

[moonstruckme]

absolutely begging for a part 2 of the sirius angst blurb with reader being more distant during sex and sirius notices. obviously take your time and take care of yourself!! mwah mwah mwah. thank you for EVEN reading this request.

Thank you for requesting my love!

cw: smut mdni, p in v, miscommunication trope

part 1

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You think you’ve been doing a fairly decent job of staying out of your own head. You’re keeping intentionally focussed on Sirius’ body and the things it does to you. His tattooed biceps flexing, hands clutching your hips to guide your movements, pretty, perfect mouth forming your name. 

He says it again, getting your attention. Reluctantly, you meet his eyes. Sirius grins wickedly.

“Someone’s quiet today. You with me, gorgeous?” 

“Mhm.” You lay a hand over his chest and lean forward to drive him deeper inside you. 

He curses at the new fit, and you grin in a way you hope looks normal, clenching your walls around him. 

“Fuck,” Sirius hisses. “That’s my girl.” 

It’s like someone’s thrown a bucket of water on the heat in your core. Your stomach drops embarrassingly, because you’re not his girl. He’d made the restrictions of your arrangement very clear when he’d spoken to Remus last week. Why would Sirius call you that when you both know it’s not true? 

“Hey.” The boy below you catches on to your shift in mood quicker than you would have expected. He looks up at you bemusedly, his grip on your hips turning from possessive to conscientious. “You okay? Wanna stop?” 

You shake your head before you can think. “No, let’s keep going.” 

You try to find your rhythm again, but Sirius doesn’t match you. Dark brows descend over stormcloud eyes. 

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not into, dollface.” 

“You’re not,” you huff. 

He looks at you for a second, gaze unabashedly scrutinizing. “You’re upset,” he deduces. 

You laugh, incredulous. “I am not.” 

But Sirius has made his decision. His grasp on your hips strengthens again as he lifts you enough to pull out, slipping from underneath you and sitting up by your pillows. You purse your lips but put your underwear—a thong you hope he doesn’t think was for his benefit—back on when he does, taking the shirt he tosses you and tugging it over your head. 

Sirius sprawls out on his side, propping his chin on a hand. “Why the pout, hm?” 

“I’m not pouting.” 

He grins. “Yeah, you are.” 

And fine, you are, but not because of him. Because you’re still pissed at yourself for being hurt. For thinking, foolishly, that you would be fine with having Sirius over when he’d texted you that he was in the mood despite still nursing your wound from just a week before. Mortified at yourself for ever having cared, and worse for caring still. 

Sirius’ eyes soften as if he’s seen something in your expression. His grip is gentle beneath the teasing as he tugs you down by your arm, encouraging you to lay beside him. 

“Wanna tell me why?” he asks.

You do, actually. It makes frustration prickle over your skin to think about how much you’d love to tell him about this. You’d fallen into the habit, stupidly, of spilling your guts to Sirius about most things. He was already one of your closest friends, but with this new level of intimacy between you…you’d lost sight of boundaries that had existed for a reason. 

The last thing either of you need is for you to burden him with your emotions about this. 

“I’m not pouting,” you say again, obstinately. 

Sirius frowns. His hand crosses the short distance to your hip, one finger running absentmindedly over the hem of his shirt you’ve thrown on. 

“Something’s upset you,” he muses. “Is it me?” 

“No,” you say. 

Something flickers in Sirius’ eyes. “Liar.” 

Your lips part to argue, but it’s no use. He looks too certain. “How do you do that?” 

His lips quirk, but there’s not much humor in his expression. “It’s a gift. Gonna tell me how I fucked up, pretty girl?” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

It’s the truth this time, and Sirius can see it. His brow creases in puzzlement. 

“M’sure I did at some point,” he says softly. His fingers push the cotton of his t-shirt up your side, toying with your underwear. “You’re just too nice to blame me for it.” 

His knuckle brushes your hip as he runs his finger along the thin, silken fabric of your thong, and you don’t stop your eyes from going to the motion. You whisper, “Why do you touch me like this?” 

For a moment, Sirius’ expression shutters. “I thought this was what we did.” His voice is quiet, not quite question and not quite answer. “Do you not want me to touch you?” 

You do, too much. But for different reasons. Not just because you’re friends with this extra element to your relationship. You want him to touch you with something more. You want to touch him back in the same way, uninhibited. 

“It’s fine,” you say. 

“No, hey.” Sirius slips his finger from your thong. The fabric snaps back into place without much bite. “Don’t say that.” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

He looks hurt you would ask. “Say what you’re thinking.” 

You blow out a breath, rolling onto your back. You don’t want to look at him, but you can still feel his gaze on you, searching and worried. 

“It’s my fault,” you say, “okay? It’s really nothing to do with you, I just…got a bit caught up in all this and started feeling things I know we agreed not to.” You sneak a glance at him, eyes shooting back to the ceiling when they accidentally meet his. “I couldn’t help it, but I’m trying to get past it.” 

You hear Sirius’ hand whisper against the sheets as it inches towards you. It stops partway. “That’s alright,” he says, a gentleness you can’t bear in his voice. “Why would you think that’s something you had to hide from me? It’s bound to happen with these things.” 

You smile wryly. “Oh, because you’re so irresistible?” 

“I mean, for one thing.” You can feel the tingling of his grin directed at you, but it fades as he sobers. “But also just because it’s natural, you know? I think we were both a bit too sure of ourselves when we started doing this. It’s not so easy to separate out as we thought.” 

You turn your head to look at him. “You don’t seem to have any trouble.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows rise. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because…” You gesture flippantly with a hand. “Because of what you said to Remus last week. We’re just friends, no?” 

Sirius stills for a moment, and then the breath goes out of him in a single, long exhale. He lets his chin drop from his hand, resting his head on a curled arm. “You were privy to that conversation, were you?” 

You shrug. “James’ bathroom door isn’t as soundproofed as we thought.” 

He chuckles. “Guess we should have been more quiet.” 

You smile halfheartedly, and Sirius’ humor fades. He looks at you carefully. If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was attempting the odd and unconventional practice of thinking before he speaks. 

“I’m not sure I said anything to Moony about what I was thinking,” he says after a minute. “I spoke about the terms of our arrangement, but I sort of avoided…putting my own feelings in the mix.” 

You’re not so careful with your words. After a week of stewing, you don’t have the patience. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sirius laughs through his nose like he can sense your agitation. “Just that I was more so making presumptions about how you felt than volunteering information on my own situation.” His hand creeps closer, making shushing noises against the sheets, until his fingertips are teasing your own. It sends zaps of energy all the way up your arm to the tips of your toes. You curl your legs in closer to you. “I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” Sirius says. “I was some pining twit who’d started having sex with a friend and then couldn’t keep my own feelings under control. What kind of idiot does that?” 

You feel your lips twitch. Sirius’ grin slashes across his face. “Yeah, I don’t know anyone that daft,” you say. 

His laugh is low and belly-deep. “Can I hug you, please?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, feigning reluctance despite the commotion in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. 

You start to sit up, but Sirius rolls right on top of you, pressing you into the bed and needling his arms underneath your shoulders. He smushes his cheek to yours. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, dollface,” he says, words breezing over your ear. “I could have saved us both a lot of time if I’d manned up and spoken to you about it.” 

You cross your wrists over his back and bring your knees up so they’re squeezing his sides. Sirius makes a ridiculously pleased humming sound. “It’s okay. I wasn’t planning on talking to you either.” 

He laughs, turning his face into yours so the sound vibrates against your temple. “One of us is going to have to pick up some emotional intelligence, else we’ll need James to referee our every interaction.” 

You squeeze him tight, happiness like a bubble close to bursting in your chest. “I dunno,” you say, and Sirius is clearly chuffed at the audible smile in your voice. He stamps a firm kiss of approval to your hairline. “I think we’ve done alright.” 

Contentment oozes from his tone, too. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

[helluvapoison]

Those Pesky Instincts

Whether you don’t realize you’re doing it (or you do) the need to scent your beloved is impossible to ignore

w/ Lucifer Morningstar, Alastor and Vox

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊* Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Only leaving every so often, the overwhelming need to scent him rarely occurs

• The two of you always have a hand on each other at the very least

• Try as he might, when Lucifer can’t worm his way out of a meeting is when the urge rears its ugly head

• You take his hands, already irritated that you can smell all the other’s he’s shaken in two hours alone, and put them on your neck

• He laughs, shaking his head at you, “What’cha doin’ there?”

• You don’t answer, tugging at his coat until he’s pressed safely to your chest

• Leaning down, you rub your forehead against his and kiss his nose

• There’s the slightest change in him too. He’s relaxing, melting against you with a heartwarming smile

• The though that him being blanketed by your scent brings him comfort has you bursting with pride

˚✧₊* Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• It’s absolutely hilarious to him that he’s more aware of what you’re doing than you are

• Respecting the fact that Alastor has to initiate touch, you practically pounce on the opportunity to nuzzle your face against him when he lets you

• He’ll amuse himself by popping everyone else’s bubble of space but yours

• You’re quick to agitation when he smells like the entirely of the hotel staff, but not quite connecting the dots of why

• “My dear, you look positively drained! Let’s fix that, shall we?”

• Alastor barely opens his arms while you’re already wrapping yours around him with a sigh

• He can see the frustrations wafting off and away from you

• And it’s all because of him

• So he continues to keep his mouth shut as you leave your subtle mark on him… besides, he’s grown fond of the smell

˚✧₊* Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Truth be told he’s never thought twice about you rubbing your cheek against his wrists

• Or the way you would tug open the collar of his suit and press your nose to his neck or when you would try and burrow against his chest with your face

• He assumed it was all a silent cry for attention

• Vox would oblige, absentmindedly brush your hair with his claws while his eyes kept busy with the screens in front of him

• You never stopped doing those things though

• “You’re awfully clingy today, aren’t you?” He teased lightly, forgetting he’d said the same thing yesterday

• There would always be people around him but Vox made it a point not to touch anyone if he could help it. The only exceptions were Valentino and Velvette

• The former would chuckle when Vox entered the room, mentioning that he “smelled funny” but refusing to elaborate through his amusement

• Vox always took his word for it, he didn’t have a nose after all, and would spray a mist of cologne on himself

• You always huffed in annoyance when he returned and went right back to square one

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 3

[prompt: fingering] male reader x kim chaewon 2.5k words

Chaewon hates that you’re actually good at this.

To be clear, there’s plenty more that Chaewon hates; it’s not exhaustive, just that bit.

She hates losing. Hates whenever anyone talks over her or doesn't give a second's worth of attention to whatever it is she's trying to say. She absolutely loathes it whenever her friends insist on complimenting her appearance when she doesn't have her clothes or makeup or hair or attitude down just yet.

But the thing she hates most? There's reason to believe it might be that her friends laugh at your jokes, or that when you roll up your sleeves and smile, they all notice things they normally wouldn't (and like it), even when Chaewon fixes them a look just this side of sour and scowly.

Realistically however, and Chaewon doesn't seem to mind admitting this part out loud - especially once you stop teasing her thighs with kisses that tickle the crease where her legs meet her hips - you really are good at going down on girls.

This, is absolute truth.

"Fuck," and "me," she breathes out, harsh little syllables coming with her fingertips knotting into your hair, right above the nape of your neck. She crashes down into the pillow behind her. Back and hips tensing - thighs all spread wide. She probably gives a bit too much, but Chaewon's the kind who gives, then turns around to take some more:

"You can-" is cut short when she gasps at the sudden, slow touch of a finger at the sensitive bundle of nerves atop her folds. There and back. "Ah - a little more, fuck, god. Again."

It's your mouth. The exact right movements - pulling and kissing, sucking gently, fluttering your tongue. Then harder and harder and harder, licking against the crease. That's what has her toes curling and feet flat to the bed. Little fistfuls of cotton sheets twisted up in her grip.

Actually, It's the flat of your tongue, soft and slick and moving on her clit in these long and languid sweeps that really makes the tears in her eyes begin to sting - like all that ache around her pussy is nothing compared to the one simmering in her stomach - like if only she could unwind around you a little bit faster and have her body turn to water and utterly ruin your sheets, she could catch her breath - and find her voice again.

You pull her puffy lips into a kiss, a devilish little suction, and her thighs press tighter and tighter together, around the sides of your head until you start to get a little dizzy. With a hand splayed open across her thigh - a tiny tickling gesture - you urge her to spread. Beg for breath.

Only to your surprise, she closes her legs completely.

"Asshole. Fuck," Chaewon sighs out.

"Did you think you'd lose me?" You kiss your way up from her hips to the flat of her stomach and grin into her skin.

"Was about to kick you," she rolls her eyes, then raises an arm and pushes her bangs off her forehead - wiping a sheen of sweat with the back of her palm. "No mouth."

"No mouth?" You cock your head, giving her an innocently questioning look.

"It's..." Chaewon is barely a hair's length away from what you expect. "Don't kiss me either. Unless you wanna make out, in which case actually, the answer's also no. I don't want to taste myself."

"Chae, you actually taste pretty good."

"Stop." Chaewon's sigh has a lilt, something obviously worried in the noise. Tucked into the shape of her half-lidded eyes. "I'm literally too turned on for this."

"So you want me to touch you."

Here’s to that what Chaewon doesn't say, "I want you to stick three of those fingers into my pussy and fill me 'til the knuckle and eat my ass while your thumb is tucked deep in my cunt. I want it to hurt, how badly I'm aching for you to fill and ruin and tear me the fuck apart."

She instead asks, "what the fuck do you think?"

"But no mouth," you repeat, slowly running your fingers down the creamy skin along her thigh, watching how she shivers when you brush a certain spot near her knee, and feeling a tightening grip on the opposite hip.

Chaewon groans a bit, lips twisting down.

"Can I perhaps, like, ask why?" you ask, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses into the flesh of her leg, down from her knee, over the curve of a thigh - but not, determinedly, into her where she's hotter and softer and practically melting, from all this pressure built up inside.

"Mind your own business," she mutters back.

You look. Chaewon's pussy is so, so pretty. Wetness gathering at the glistening, flushed hood. She's fluttering: desperate for the faintest touch. It's hard to imagine yourself doing anything other than making her writhe and gasp and wail on your mouth and lips and tongue, as your undoing - reducing her to an exhausted, sweat-drenched, wracked mess, the kind of spent that follows with long, long sighs and whispered curses under her breath.

With a fingertip ghosting touches around her cunt, Chaewon lets out an unexpectedly high-pitched whine. One that fades, bit by bit. Into an eventual murmuring - begging?

"Baby," you say, when you just can't resist. "I just want to make you-"

"I said, I wanted-I want-" and then with the pillow over her face, her groan, muffled, "look - it's fine. It's...great, even," is what you think she means by "amazing," but she continues, "you're literally the best thing I've ever felt, please. Fuck-come on. Keep touching."

You slow your hand, smoothing down the soft skin over her thighs.

And as soon as your lips cover her hole, from where she's wet and dripping and open, her hands fall to her side, pillow sliding into the corner of the sheets. "It's too good."

You're kidding. With a tip of your head, and your most self-satisfied little smirk, you ask, "too good?"

"Can you shut the fuck up, I hate you. I really fucking do," she says in what you figure was meant to be a dismissive sigh. One that's something stuck in a guttural moan and the squeak of mattress springs. "Please, you make me cum too fast otherwise."

You chuckle, trying your damnedest not to keep the mood going and actually get her to enjoy the moment - the best orgasm of her life, you want her to remember. To deserve the bragging rights.

“Odd complaint, princess.”

The stare she has fixed on you - over the space where her shirt is bunched up over the arch of her ribs - cuts right through you, if a bit hazy. And with her hands over her face, squirming her hips closer to you, she says, “don’t fucking call me princess.”

The implication is not lost on her. You let out an apologetic laugh, bringing your mouth, if briefly, closer to the peak of her hips and blowing a cold breath.

Chaewon just mutters something that sounds vaguely like, "fucking prick, just go back down."

Which is where she ends up. Or, starts. Because now she's lying back on the pillows with her hand slung across her forehead, leg up and bent and calf draped over the crook of your elbow, her eyes rolling back as you start to touch her - really, earnestly; work her up again, thumb rubbing the length of her clit. You can hear Chaewon's breath leaving her chest, in a broken pattern, until the sensations finally allow her to settle into one smooth inhale.

And then, slowly, just the length of one finger up to your first knuckle, the second - you slip inside her so, so easily. Then almost all the way. Her body tense, and her cunt, deliciously soft.

When you stroke and rub and slide your way back in, adding another digit, the noises she begins to make - your name, then god - sound raw, like a far-off cry and a drawn-out wail. There's a swishing sound whenever you get really slow and rhythmic, with the push, that turns slick-wet from the hot, milky way her insides get all sticky with her own want, before you can press more kisses into the bone of her hips and lap against the same skin - almost biting.

"Tell me if you want to stop," you whisper, the hot, humid breath of which does not fail to cause her spine to bend.

"Don't."

She's half-swearing, half-whimpering.

"Fuck you," is what follows next. As she wraps a hand in the hair around the base of your skull and pulls you close, right into her thighs and hips.

It's the small pleasures that have always gotten to you the most, the smallest, most vulnerable and unthinkingly personal acts, like, you think, when she presses the heel of her hand over her eyes and half-smiles, when the palm spreads out across the flatness of her stomach, as if, somehow, her whole self could not be any more delicate and devious at the exact same time.

And you are compelled, because of course, you are compelled: to be anything and everything Chaewon asks for in this moment, you tell her.

(Here's the embarrassing part. For her, really.)

You have your thumb tucked up along the muscle of Chaewon's thighs, opening and stroking a straight line from where your finger is still nestled all the way up the entirety of her folds, "so good and so," before circling the tensed point in a delicate, feather-touch, "tight, baby."

"Shit, oh, that's. You're." And all you do is hum, agreeing, adding another stroke and letting your lips fall into her open thigh. Your finger fucking her cunt a few times before twisting back and pulling out.

"You're making me feel so," and her whole body relaxes. Not only her voice. A shudder that breaks up her spine and spreads to her thighs, loosening. And looser and looser.

And at the exact same time she's saying: "hot."

Chaewon runs the pad of her thumb over her lip, bucking her hips into the flutter of your fingers. The soft, velvety heat of her cunt takes quickly to the slow circle-stroke, slide and curl, repeat, again. Her whine is longer, louder. More-so once her whole body tightens up once your fingers fuck into her, especially deep, in short-rhythmic staccato strokes, rubbing at her from the inside until she's shaking all over and can hardly breathe.

"Fuck, the way you're so-" Chaewon's heels digging deeper, "oh, deeper. Right there, please right there–."

This isn't even the worst of her embarrassment. When her stomach gets visibly tensed, muscles bunching and giving, and your free hand falls to rest on top of it. All this friction happening within her. Just beneath the surface of her skin and how that must be lighting every nerve along her spine and sending them all aflame, so overwhelmed and tightened, only relaxing in small increments whenever you move a bit too slow, to a bit more pressure - adding the extra touch, kissing her everywhere between her thighs, right into the dips between them. Close but not there. So frustratingly near, and she barely has the air left in her lungs to make a frustrated noise, but somehow finds the impetus to let the weight fall out of her body - let her limbs stretch open, give, release the tension.

Then all those incoherent twitching spasms: "God. Now-"

When the sudden ache inside her walls hits, it catches first in her chest, spreading out where the fist curling into the covers can't hide. "Right there, right there," she's panting, nodding her head in these tiny little shakes, rocking her hips into the movement and pushing them into your touch. And you just nod back.

Her orgasm hits her like a fucking lightning storm: blinding and thunderous, heavy. 

Chaewon simply cries out when she unravels, finally, and the sound is a little wrecked. Cursing your name, god's. 

Her hand is twisted in your hair, and she pulls, twists and wrenches, an arm tossed over her face when it feels like you're rushing, surging waves breaking all along her senses, the pads of your fingers pushing into the ridges, knuckles wrapping, knocking at her core, finger prints seared into her skin and pressing into that knot of pleasure, swollen and raw.

She just exhales into a groan and runs a palm down her face and throat, and breasts, rubbing a bit harshly at the tops of her shoulders. You raise yourself over her, until your head's just next to her collarbone, not speaking but watching how her breaths are slowing - the moment they become steadier, like a boat to shore.

You prop an arm over her, carefully, letting Chaewon twist her palm, finger the tips of yours. It's like listening to music, hearing how she laughs and swallows around this haze. Her whole body in the dreamy afterglow, writhing a little when the ache crawls back up through the space between her hips and she settles onto her side, curling up in your half-embrace.

"Oh, well. Look what you did to me, fuck," she murmurs. You can't help smiling.

"Too fast?" you ask, lowering your head, propping yourself up on a single elbow and gently placing a kiss along the top of her hair, tangling her fingers with your own.

"You're really annoying," she huffs. She tries her best not to blush, but the glow in her cheeks is quite apparent - especially once it reaches her ears. You laugh right into the top of her head, and she playful slaps a fist to your chest. "Go to bed, idiot."

"To think - you said you liked me."

"Said. Said, being the key word here."

When you roll over - slightly onto her and slip a thigh between her legs - Chaewon groans, and her hands press into your back. The touch is light. Practically nothing. Then you're grinning down at her, a sly smile playing in your eyes. "Maybe it’s my turn," she murmurs, "to make you squirm."

"No mouth?" you tease. "You might need the help sweetheart."

"Fuck that. Absolutely not." Chaewon rolls and turns until she's on top of your thighs, pinning you gently in place. She’s fixing her hair into a clumsy little ponytail, hallmark signs of impatience, that says, "if I want to suck your cock, I'll do it," she glares a little, but her smirk is turning the corner, and her whole face softens. 

"Shouldn't have laughed earlier, asshole."

(And here is the start and end of all you think you know, watching as she places a trail of kisses down your chest.)

[v7lgar]

@jegulus-microfic | may 26 - fine | tw: NSFW, spit swallowing, dirty talk, D/s undertones | words: 827 | @ecstarry @star4daisy

Regulus didn't know James had it in him. He had a gut feeling, yes, but the outcome was beyond his dreams.

James was on top of him, sucking his neck hard and fucking him deep. Every time he thrust, the sounds of their flesh made Regulus feel weak in the knees. It made him dizzy, he felt so heavy and needy. It was fine, it was James and he always knew how to take care of him.

His hands were at James’ back, nails digging in and his eyes were closed. All he could feel was him, James, filling his pussy and feeding him nicely.

“Fuck, James—” He moaned loudly, it was hard to open his eyes but he needed to look at him, so he did.

James bit the tender skin of his neck and slowly pulled away, mouth hanging open and his lips were red. Regulus touched his bottom lip and at that moment James shoved his cock deep into his cunt again and Regulus cried out.

“Shit— you are so good at this,” he told him as he tried to catch his breath, “I don't like that you are good at this.”

James licked his cheek slowly, it made him feel worse. And then he got closer to his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

“You like it when I fuck you this good though,” he spoke gradually and kissed the under of his ear, “I can feel your wetness, your pussy is hungry for my cock. It stretches nicely around me, swallowing every inch of my cock. Are you sure you don't like it?”

Regulus had to close his eyes shut, the lewd words did numbers on him and as if that wasn't enough, James’ raspy, low voice was driving him crazy. And he was right, every word coming out of his mouth was absolute truth.

“I fucking hate you,” Regulus said, he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, “I can't stand you.”

James only smirked, he was so handsome without his glasses too. Regulus was made of love at that exact moment, every limb of his was loving James Potter, wanting him without an end.

“I guess your cunt is not on the same page with you,” He said, he pulled out until then tip of his cock was the only thing staying inside of Regulus, and while he was being watched by him, he spat onto his pussy and shoved his cock into forcefully in one push.

Regulus’ breath left his lungs abruptly, he couldn't move, he couldn't think.

But James continued, “Look at him, pretty little thing, wrapping itself around my cock so good. So tight, yet he can take it all,” His eyes met with Regulus, “Soaking wet for me, begging for me to fuck you harder. You need to be fucked the way you deserve it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Regulus didn't know when he started crying, he was feeling so full and everything was so perfect that pleasure clouded his every sense.

James didn't wait for an answer, Regulus quietly crying was all he needed. He wrapped his hand around Regulus’ throat and fucked him faster while choking him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck— James, Jamie— Potter—”

James fucked him even harder, he was in shambles.

“Fuck me, fuck, fuck me— faster, yes, yes—”

Regulus didn't stop talking and neither did James. The more Regulus moaned and rambled, the dirtier James’ words became. He felt James’s fingers on his clit and everything in him screamed. He started rubbing it faster than the rhythm he was fucking him to.

“Fuck, your little cunt is feels so fucking good— Can’t get enough of this.”

He spat on his pussy again and spread the wetness by using his fingers. At the same time, Regulus was hanging on to his life as he scratched James’ back and he could feel the blood getting under his fingernails.

James moved his hand from his throat to his chin and opened Regulus’ mouth. He spit inside of his mouth and Regulus moaned as he swallowed. He could feel his wet folds getting more slicker with every thrust of James’ hips.

“James,” he groaned as James put his thumb into his mouth and he started sucking it while imagining it was James’ cock. He couldn't stop moaning, everything felt amazing. He was so close, painfully close and James’ fingers on his clit were making everything blurry.

He felt like an angel who was about to fall from heaven into the pits of hell.

“I’m close— I'm so close, James— oh fuck, yes, yes, yes—”

James rubbed it faster, every time he bottomed out his pussy became even more wet. He was there, and it was too much. Every feeling was heightened achingly and all he needed was him.

He bit James’ finger and pulled him into a kiss by the nape of his neck. It broke something in him and—

He started to fall.